Tales From the Freezer IV: Thoughts and Ponderings
by Cleopatra Antoinette
Summary: Everyone has their own thoughts of the others. The only question is what those thoughts really are...
1. Chapter 1

I DON'T OWN HELLBOY.

This is probably going to be one of my only chapter stories that I'll do. I'm not good with chapters really. So enjoy this one!

Next will be Bree, then John, then Nuada.

OH! And to answer someone's question about a John/Nuada pairing... I personally don't like to do slash fics with caracters unless they are explicitly stated to be gay. Honestly, it kind of annoys me when people do this, because when a character in a fanfic is portrayed as gay, it's usually because that's what the author wants, and not what the creator did. I find that kinda disrespectful, but that's just me. ANYWAY... Neither of these characters have shown really any hint of being gay, so I'm going to say that they'll stay straight.

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Tales From the Freezer IV, Part One

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Scopes

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Alison liked looking through binoculars and scopes. She enjoyed seeing everything so closely from so far away. It was cool to see everything so clearly, despite not being close enough to look at it in detail. But at the same time, it was kind of like spying. How likely was it that she could just walk up to someone and just watch them, the way they moved around obstacles and people, the way they held themselves, the way they looked in certain lights? It wasn't likely at all.

The problem was she enjoyed doing this. You learned a lot from someone just by watching them. Body movement was very much a reflection of personality, and it gave her insight into people. Unfortunately, she got little chance to see people through these lenses because they were underground, in dark, cold halls.

But she knew John and Bree well enough already honestly. Bree liked to walk fast, with big strides, but she had confidence and held herself in a way that said "I'm here. If you don't like it, fuck you." She had eyes that could bore holes into skulls and a tongue that could send someone's mind spinning off the deep end.

John held himself quietly. He wasn't obtrusive, but neither was he invisible. He had a quality about him, a sort of distinct aura, but without the new agey connotation. He was easy to sum up though, really. He was the knight on the trusted steed, who would stay away until needed and then come galloping in. And the funny part was everyone knew it but him. It was so obvious he was good; it was almost like a fact, like you'd say 'John is good' like you'd say 'two plus two is four'. He just had that kind of caring eyes that shouted his purity. Alison thought it was nice that someone could still have those eyes after so much stuff.

Nuada on the other hand… she had to 'sneak' a few looks at him to see what he was about. When he was outside in the snow, training… or dancing… whatever it was, he'd spend hours in the snow just moving, like he was practicing karate or something. Alison, wanting to know about his movements (and maybe because he was just nice to look at), she'd sneak up to this little balcony with the perfect little spot where if she laid on her stomach, she could see right where Nuada would stand perfectly. With binoculars, she got a perfect shot, even if she did have to lay on stone outside in the snow. But to get a look at the prince move like he did… it was totally worth it.

He moved like nothing she'd ever seen before. He moved like he was fluid as water, hard as rock, like an ethereal being. It made sense since he wasn't human. But he always had this look on his face, and no matter how white and pale his skin and hair was, his eyes were black and cold, his face as empty as a wall of ice. But his body moved like it was sad. Like all he had to live for were those motions that he went through step by step. And he seemed like he hated it, the emptiness. Sometimes Alison wished she could help him. She wished she could help Bree and John too. They all seemed aimless and sad, like panthers or bears pacing along the edges of their cages and not being able to get out and run like they were meant to. Alison, she was happy just being there with people but she wished she could help them.

But since she didn't know how and so couldn't, she just sighed and watched Nuada through her scope. Maybe something would come to her… eventually… For now, she would watch and learn. That was one of the things she did best.

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Nothing fancy, just a character's thoughts on other characters. Reviews are nice...


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, yes, in all honesty I had more or less abandoned all my fanfiction in the preference of having a life. However, guilt got the best of me and demanded that I return to complete what I had started. Problem was (1 I'm lazy, (2 I don't think I'm a good enough writer to keep the series alive with the same passion I had in the beginning and (3 Real Life combined with my laptop not being compatible with FanFiction. net just annoyed the heck out of me. I was honestly disappointed with TFTF III (Tales From The Freezer looks good abbreviated), and I was going to scrap it. But I was self taught to keep even the things that are sucky. Good reminders to get better. So, I return again, hopefully with a better work ethic than before.

Also, concerning the comment that said I have a problem writing gay fanfiction- If you want to ignore the blatantly obvious fact that neither John nor Nuada are gay in the movies, be my guest, but don't come whining to me about not writing it in. If the characters aren't gay in their original context, then they won't be gay in my stories. The End. Sorry if that annoys you.

I DO NOT OWN HELLBOY OR ANY AFFILIATED CHARACTERS. Except Alison and Bree. They're mine. And Cillian. He's mine too.

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Tales From The Freezer IV, Part Two

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Reflections

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Bree hated mirrors. Hated the way they reflected back the ugly truth on her face. Hated that they showed her the imperfections and flaws. Hated the way that when she was furious or tired or sad, they could show her just how obvious the emotions were on her face. For someone who prided herself on being unemotional, it was just friggen' embarrassing. Her only comfort was that they reflected other people too.

Alison, for example. She wore her emotions like clothes. Happy one second, slighted the next, upset and then cherry and then moody. She was like the typical girl on her first day of the school year- couldn't choose just one for the day. But she didn't care. It was the way she was. When asked why she was so moody, Alison would eagerly pull out her astrological sign, Cancer. "We're deeply emotional beings!" she'd explain. Then Bree would smack her upside the head and say that stuff was for idiots.

John on the other hand... Bree noticed he ignored his reflections. He pretended they didn't exist, which she found was weird. When he looked into a mirror or some other reflective surface, he would rarely look himself in the eyes. He'd glance over himself and then look away as soon as possible. Bree had the feeling that he was ashamed of something. He liked to pretend he was the nice guy, but she knew that he was like a river or something- smooth on the surface but troubled and strong underneath. John didn't like reflections because he didn't like to face what he might see. John would look sometimes though. He'd look for a long time and then look away. He was scared. Bree just got angry. She wasn't afraid. But then, not everyone could be perfect like her.

As for Princey... Now, HE was interesting. He never looked at his reflection. Not in a mirror, not in the walls, not in the surface of the pots and pans. He just didn't look. Bree knew why he didn't look. Princey knew what he would see. He'd see someone defeated by himself. Someone already dead. And the worst part was, he knew he was dead. He wasn't just dead though. He was ashamed of being dead. Horribly ashamed of it. And Princey knew that she knew it. It was why he hated her, because she knew what was wrong with him.

Bree knew that for all Nuada's speeches about superiority and being better than them, he realized that he was a coward. The humans who were so inferior to him could face themselves in the mirror, and he couldn't. He was a coward, and couldn't stand it.

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I love reviews and actually helpful criticism. *hint hint nudge nudge*


	3. Chapter 3

I DO NOT OWN HELLBOY OR ANY AFFILIATED CHARACTERS. Except Alison and Bree. They're mine. And Cillian. He's mine too.

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Tales From The Freezer IV, Part Three

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Specialty

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John wouldn't deny that he loved cooking. He knew some people would have thought it as something men weren't supposed to do, but if he was good at it and liked it who cared what they thought. It wasn't his love of cooking that first made him do it though. That had been his parents and their diner.

It had been a small diner- nothing special. But once John was old enough they'd left him in charge of the kitchen, flipping the burgers and preparing the meals while the rest of them went on to other tasks and jobs. His duties were menial enough that they didn't have to worry about him. He helped his mother cook at home too. She showed him the spices to use, what to add in to get a little more flavor and a better aroma. He still remembered her encouraging smiles as he helped her, his father's back pats and words of praise at his diligence at work. That was what had gotten him into cooking.

After that, after his parents disappeared, he cooked for his uncle. His uncle the mechanic who was a good man, and kind as well- John had cooked for him. To him, cooking was a way of getting people out of their shells.

He remembered times when people would come into the diner, looking tired and downtrodden. John would make up the person's order and they'd put a plate in front of the customer with a big ol' cheeseburger, fries, and a milkshake. It was amazing how a face changed when they smelled good food. Smiles, grins, sounds of "Mmm..." and "Good" would waft into the kitchen where John was. You could tell a lot about people when you were cooking.

He used this especially when around people he was going to be spending a lot of time with.

Alison, for example. When she was hungry, she walked around looking like she was going to drop dead. She groaned and complained and whined until people were ready to kill her. But when she was really sad she just didn't talk. She stayed completely silent and responded with few words. Until John baked something. Like chocolate chip cookies. As soon as Alison saw him getting the flour out, she'd go to the kitchen and be gloomy until he asked her what was wrong. And then as he added the ingredients and mixed them together and put them in the oven, she'd talk, slowly at first, and then fast and eagerly like she usually did. Alison was easy, but comfortable. Like chocolate chip cookies.

Now, Bree was an entirely different story. Bree acted like she was tough. She acted like a crab shell. Like nothing could penetrate it unless it was being beaten until it cracked. But John knew how to handle crab shells. There were a few sensitive points along the sides of the shell, and if you pressed a knife against them a certain way, they just popped off. Just like Bree. You hit a sensitive nerve, and there was no stopping her. She would go on and on and on and on... But about many different things. It was kind of nice how sometimes she'd be yelling and then the next moment she'd be talking softly, reminiscing on fall afternoons and how much she loved apple picking. It was a good change.

But then there was Nuada...

That elf didn't even eat. At least not while anyone looked. Occasionally John would see him pick up and apple or a pear, and he'd eat that. But as far as an actual meal, or something substantial- no. He never ate. He refused all invitations and offers to join them at mealtimes. He didn't so much as glance at the sandwiches and hot drinks.

But there were times when John knew Nuada wanted to. There were times when John would bake a fruit pie or a cobbler, and Nuada would pause in his tracks and glance at the goods. There were times when he would smell them and inhale their aroma. But he never took a bite. He wanted to, that much was obvious. But he never did. John had a feeling he never would.

At least, not unless he had to. Or was desperate. Or there were just strange, strange circumstances.

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Quick Author's Note: Nuada's chapter will be pretty short. He's not as introspective as the rest of them are. Or maybe he's just old enough to know/realize things without thinking about them as much... Either way, he's not gonna have much to say.


	4. Chapter 4

Alright, here we go. Last chapter. I really did mean to have this up much sooner, but life happened. At least it's all done now. I'll hopefully have another one up sometime soon. We shall see. Thanks for sticking with it for so long, peoples!

I DO NOT OWN HELLBOY OR ANY AFFILIATED CHARACTERS.

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Tales From The Freezer IV, Part Four

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Eyes

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Humans had such interesting eyes. Nuada once thought this over as he sat outside in the frozen wasteland of Antarctica. He thought this over as he watched his three guards (if they could even be called that) walk around their base doing routine maintenance.

Nuada knew humans. He knew their bodies were weak and fragile. He knew their hair never grew in beautiful colors of the rainbow. He knew that their voices could not sing the songs of the trees and wind. He knew that their skin would never take the tones of the earth or their magic. They were in so many ways like the snowflakes that fell from the sky. Small, insignificant and quick to disappear. And yet there were so many of them that they managed to cover the face of the earth. Everywhere he looked he could see nothing but snow, just as he could see nothing but humans. The prince hated the snow. Just as he hated the humans and so much about them.

Except for their eyes. Their eyes were so different from what he had seen before. He had grown up around the eyes of the fae. He had seen ones like stars, some the color of the ocean, those the color of amethysts and rubies. Nuada had seen fae with none who saw nothing before them but things only in the future. He had grown up around many wondrous eyes. But he had never seen eyes that were alive.

He had once heard a queen say "The eyes are the window to the soul." And so they were for humans. It amazed Nuada how he could see just what they were seeing and just what they were feeling, all by glancing at their eyes. Their colorless, drab, dull, faded corneas and irises that looked like they were only shadows of their original shade. They were like a painting after someone had thrown a bucket on it. The colors were smeared and ugly, but yet humans managed to see more than Nuada could now see.

He saw the girls watch the snowflakes fall like they were beautiful. Nuada saw only white particles. He saw John's eyes start gleaming with mischief as he slowly crafted a snowball and then hurled it at the back of Bree's head. He saw Bree's eyes darken with annoyance and Alison's eyes brighten with laughter. Yes, humans seemed to see twice as much as Nuada now did.

And it made tears fall from his own beautiful golden eyes sometimes, because their eyes glowed with life while his were cold and dead.

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That is the end of this short chapter story. I hope you enjoyed it, and I also hope it made up for the crappy last installment.

NOTE: For those of you who want to see Hellboy show up at the Freezer, your wish will be granted... eventually. Honestly, I had intended for that to happen from the beginning, so don't worry. You won't be disappointed.


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